Home sweet Home
by Einna Aroura Du'an
Summary: The summer after OotP, do not read the story if you haven't read the book, not even this summery! Anywho, Harry gets rescued, dudley gets a bloody nose and Vernon gets his cummupence.
1. Deserving

AN: this is my very first fic, not just in the Harry Potter universe, but my first fic EVER! I really would like to know if people like it so far and think I should carry on or if they think this plot's been done too many times and should be abandoned (I got another idea lined up anyway, I just have a serious Sirius addiction and so wanted to do this one first anyway. That and I just wanted my turn at bashing the Dursleys).  
  
Dedicated to my step-mother...oh how I hate her for getting me hooked on Harry Bloody Potter!  
  
Warning: Erm, don't run with scissors? OH! You mean about the story? No, no warnings. I would put child abuse, but Harry don't constitute a child anymore, so violence, I guess. Little dark and angsty, so if that isn't your scene, please don't read this, and if you do decide to read this, please don't flame me if you don't like it.  
  
Anyways, one with the story, and remember, my first reviewer gets a character named after them when I do my next story!  
  
#  
  
It had been several days since the last time Harry had left his room. He had a chair wedged against the doorknob, so Vernon had tried a few times to get in, but hadn't succeeded, and eventually, Harry had been broken from his reverie long enough to shout something to the effect of Bugger off or ten seconds after entering my room, you'll be leaving through the bloody window! He was sure there was more, but whatever he'd said was obviously enough, as he hadn't been disturbed by anyone for two days...or was it three? Harry wasn't too sure, the days and nights all kinda seemed to blend together now. Eyes closed or open, light outside, dark, and all in- betweens, Harry never saw past the vision that played through his head...always the same, never ending...mostly, he would turn and run form the death room after Bellatrix, just to find it on the other side of the door.  
  
Even Hedwig had stopped trying to provoke a response from her master. She had tried, in the end nipping him on the arm hard enough to draw blood. Harry hadn't reacted in the slightest, not shouting or batting her away, not even blinking, just continuing to stare at a dull spot on the off-white ceiling.  
  
He wasn't sure when or how Dudley got into his room, but he was suddenly made aware of it as his cousins round, ugly face and many chins atop an almost non-existent neck appeared in Harry's line of vision.  
  
"Hey, Freak!" Yelled his cousin, spitting an amount Harry was sure came unnatural even to Dudley. Harry considered simply ignoring his cousin...however, within seconds of executing this plan, Dudley had disappeared, only to reappear in front of his face with a long, thin wooden stick that Harry recognized as his own wand.  
  
Harry's seeker reflexes were apparently taking a break. By the time grabbing it back off of Dudley crossed his mind, Dudley had already jumped back out of arms reach, and by the time Harry was sat up, Dudley was waddling out of the room and down the stairs as fast as his pudgey legs would take him.  
  
Harry caught up with his cousin at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing Dudley's slick hair with one hand and his wand with the other.  
  
"Duddy-kins!" shrieked Aunt Petunia as she and Vernon appeared in the doorway to the living-room.  
  
"Never. Touch. My. Things. Again." Growled Harry, his mouth a mere inch from Dudley's ear where his head had been pulled back so far by Harry's clenched fist in his hair.  
  
Vernon advanced towards the two, looking at Harry like he wanted to murder him, which, knowing Vernon, probably wasn't far off. Harry, however, had let go of Dudley's hair, allowing his obese cousin to fall to the floor, as Harry turned to go back to his room, completely ignoring the indignant yelling from both Dudley and Vernon.  
  
"Or what?!" Dudley yelled. "You gonna seek you Godfather on us?" Harry simply ignored him and carried on walking. He was almost at the top of the stairs before he heard something that made him stop. "Or maybe that would be a little hard, now that he's dead."  
  
Both Petunia and Vernon stopped talking immediately.  
  
"What did you say, Dudley Darling?" asked Aunt Petunia.  
  
Harry turned slowly to face Dudley, his face completely expressionless, his eyes dead.  
  
"I hear you, you know." Sneered Dudley.  
  
"Shut up, Dudley" said Harry, his voice completely toneless.  
  
Dudley continued, "every night, always the same, screaming all night...'Sirius, No...'"  
  
Then, suddenly, Harry was no longer stood at the top of the stairs in the Vernon residence on Privet drive. He was no longer even in Surrey. Harry Potter was back in London, in the Ministry of Magic, standing in the death room before a great arch-way draped with a black veil watching as his God- father was hit with the curse that knocked him through into death.  
  
Through the fog surrounding the image, Harry was aware that his cousin was saying something else.  
  
"She killed Sirius..."  
  
Harry turned to see himself struggling against Remus Lupins grip on him as he attempted to follow Bellatrix.  
  
"Shut up..." Harry's voice was barely audible over his cousins mocking imitation.  
  
"I'll kill her!"  
  
"I said SHUT UP!"  
  
And suddenly, Harry wasn't stood at the top of the stairs in the Vernon residence of Privet drive. Nor was he stood in the Ministry of Magic in London. He was all but flying down the stairs to land on top of his obese cousin, and was sat on top of the boys chest making sticky paste of his face, getting in four punches, one hitting Dudley on the left eye, two round the jaw and one meeting its mark on his cousins nose, producing the gratifying sound of bone snapping, before Petunia screamed and Vernon pulled him off by the throat.  
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" Vernon bellowed.  
  
Harry gripped at the fat fingers digging in around his throat as he struggled to draw breath, his legs thrashing beneath him, finally connecting with some part of his Uncles anatomy as the man dropped him and hurried towards his son. Harry tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't co- operate, and within seconds, Harry had surrendered consciousness to a world of red and black.  
  
#  
  
By the time Harry came to on the carpeted hallway floor, the first thing he was aware of was that he was completely alone. The second thing was that it was night-time, as the house was in total darkness. The third thing, he discovered as he tried to move, was that every single part of his body hurt.  
  
Wincing, Harry sat up and took a few deep breaths while his head stopped spinning. He assumed the Dursleys had taken Dudley to hospital...Harry was sure at least one bone had snapped under his enraged fist.  
  
Struggling to steady himself, Harry made his way up the stairs. He entered his bedroom and turned on the lights. His eyes immediately began burning, sending bolts of electricity into his already agonized brain. Quickly, Harry flipped the switch to turn the lights back on and fumbled towards the window, throwing open the curtains that had remained closed since he had arrived back for the summer, and allowing the moons silver light access to the room. And allowing Harry to see that there were in fact several owls on the tree branches outside the house.  
  
Huh?  
  
Opening the window, Harry glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 00:07am, July 31st.  
  
Harry hadn't a clue as to the date until that moment, and so had no idea it was his birthday. He took the parcels and letters from the Owls. One was a hired owl (Harry could tell by the way it appeared, dropped the package and letter it had been holding and then disappeared again within seconds), one Harry recognized as Rons hyperactive little ball of fluff, Pigwidgeon, or Pig, flying around the ceiling looking thoroughly please with himself, Remus owl, Athena, his own Hedwig, and another that Harry did not recognize.  
  
"You look official...Whatever it is, I didn't do it." He said to the unfamiliar Tawny owl.  
  
He was about to open the letter and parcel left on his bed by the rented owl, when from outside, he heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive. The Dursleys must be back.  
  
Harry quickly took the parcels and letters from the various owls, stuffed them under the floorboard where he had hidden so many things before, and then threw open the window as he heard the door downstairs crash open.  
  
"Go!" Harry whispered urgently, trying to push the owls out of the window. "Get out of here! GO!"  
  
He could hear his uncle stamping up the stairs, cursing him with every foul word he knew as Harry finally get Pig out the window and slammed it shut just as his bedroom door burst open and an enraged looking Vernon stormed into the room.  
  
"Boy!" Vernon bellowed.  
  
"Uncle." Harry replied, not at all fazed by the sight of the man before him, who happened to closely resemble a large red rhinoceros.  
  
Vernon simply looked at his nephew for a moment, before he took one giant step forwards and met his nephew with a sharp back-hand that sent the boy flying across the room.  
  
"A broken nose you gave my son," snarled Vernon looming over the boy sprawled on the floor before him.  
  
Harry touched the back of his hand to his mouth and wasn't surprised to find the lip split and bleeding. "He deserved it." Harry answered, pulling himself up to sit against the wall.  
  
"Oh?" was Vernon's reply, before pulling back and kicking Harry with all his might in his nephews' side. There was the audible sound of ribs cracking as Harry doubled over back onto the floor.  
  
"Go downstairs, boy." Growled Vernon. "Apologize to my son."  
  
"He deserved it." Said Harry, struggling to pull breath into his lungs.  
  
His uncle's foot collided with his already broken ribs again.  
  
"Well maybe you'll feel like apologizing once I've broken some more of your bones."  
  
With that, it really began. Vernon kicked Harry again and again, in the head, the stomach, the ribs, the back, anywhere he could reach. Harry could remember much after he curled into a ball to try and shield himself a little, but he was aware of hanging in the grey haze between consciousness and blissful sleep and calling out, words he couldn't understand or remember tumbling passed his bloody lips, words and names and wracking coughs combining into sentences as the assault continued.  
  
Eventually, it ended. Vernon stood back and glared down at the boy. "It's time to stop hiding behind ghosts, Harry." Said Vernon. "That freak of a Godfather can't save you now."  
  
With that, Vernon delivered a final blow to the side of Harry's head, and the grey haze exploded into brilliant red before the world turned black once more...  
  
#  
  
What must have been hours later, Harry woke up. Every part of his body was either in agony or was completely numb, and his right arm was completely useless.  
  
Harry sat up and tried to make his way up onto his bed. He got onto his knees, using the side of the bed for support, and was bought nearly face to face with Hermione's owl. Like the others before it, this owl too bore a card and box.  
  
Why the hell not? Thought Harry. He couldn't see himself getting into bed anyway. So he opened the lid of the box Hermione had sent him. Inside was a cake, a box of matches and sixteen candles. On top of the cake was a simple message.  
  
Make a wish, Harry.  
  
Harry smiled weakly through the pain. Taking up the candles one by one, he arranged them into a large 'S' on the top of his cake. He struck a match and lit them, and eventually, he was sat on the floor with the white box and chocolate cake in front of him ablaze with the light of sixteen tiny candles.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
I wish for Sirius. Harry thought. He repeated it in his head like a mantra, growing louder and louder as all other thoughts were forced out of his head, he could feel the wish building power, he knew it was going to work...  
  
"Bring him back."  
  
Harry tried to take a deep breath, but before he was able to, a wind blew in through the open window and the bright room was plunged into darkness by the warm breath of July, and for one second, just one, Harry thought he could hear a voice in the wind, whispering in his ear before it left the room, whispering a simple four words that sparked a fire of hope in the dark recess of his heart.  
  
You have been heard...  
  
#  
  
REVIEW! 


	2. Help me, Sirius

AN: Here it is, my attempt at Vernon bashing! Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I know, I forgot to put one on the last one, so here it is to make up for it.  
  
I OWN SOD ALL!!  
  
Now, on with the bashing!  
  
#  
  
Morning arrived a few hours later on Privet drive. Golden sunlight trickled through the gaps in the curtains of Harrys room and the birds sounded the dawn chorus to welcome the day. But the boy who lived was not stirred by the world around him. The morning sun rose lazily into the sky, but Harry did not wake. Nor did he wake when Vernon banged on the door. Nor did he wake when his Aunt Petunia screamed downstairs.  
  
If Harry Potter had awoken, he would have known that there was now another person in the house. Or rather, there was now an animal in the house. When Petunia had gone downstairs to the kitchen that morning to put out the milk bottles, she had seen something she had not expected.  
  
Curled up asleep quite happily on the kitchen table was a great, black dog.  
  
Petunia screamed and the animal awoke. It took one look at her, sat up, stretched, and then turned into a person.  
  
Petunia screamed once more as she was met with the amused face of Sirius Black.  
  
"Oh, do shut up Petunia." Mumbled Sirius, jumping off the table and walking around the kitchen.  
  
Petunia, for her part, didn't do much more then simply stand there with her jaw working her mouth open and closed like a fish out of water. Suddenly, a head appeared around the edge of the kitchen door.  
  
"Petunia, what's all the racket about-"Vernon Dursely stopped mid-sentence as he noticed the man before him.  
  
"Vernon." Sirius nodded pleasantly.  
  
Petunia ran to her husband, hiding her thin frame behind his massive bulk.  
  
"What are you doing in my house?!" Demanded Vernon.  
  
"Wish I knew, mate." Replied Sirius. "Well, suppose I might as well see Harry while I'm here, where is he?"  
  
Petunia looked at her husband. Her husband looked at her. Then they both turned back to Sirius, both considerably paler then they had been just seconds before.  
  
"The boy's not here." Said Vernon shakily.  
  
Sirius looked at the man for a moment, his nostrils flaring.  
  
"you're lying." Said Sirius.  
  
Vernon swallowed loudly as he backed slowly out of the room. Sirius casual demenor from moments before was gone as he followed Vernon out of the room.  
  
"Where is he, Dursley?"  
  
"He...he's out," replied Vernon. "Gone to a friends house. Staying there this summer."  
  
"No he isn't, Vernon. Stop lying to me." Both men and Petunia were now outside kitchen and Vernon was now attempting to back into the living room as Sirius followed.  
  
"I'm not lying, you lunatic!" yelled Vernon. He backed further into the living room and eventually bumped into the table and was forced to stop. Sirius stopped too...about an inch in front of Vernon.  
  
"I am going to ask you one more time, Vernon." Growled Sirius. "And I really, really recommend not lying to me again, because I swear on the name of any God that's up there if you don't give me a straight answer I'll give you a real reason to hate the wizarding world. So tell me. Where. Is. My Godson?"  
  
"I...I-"Vernon swallowed nervously as he struggled to form words.  
  
Sirius grabbed the front of the fat mans shirt as he yelled again "where is he, Vernon?!"  
  
When Vernon still didn't answer, Sirius all but threw him aside. He spun around and strode into the hallway, his nostrils flaring again as he scented the air. He turned and made his way up the stairs, pushing aside the fat boy as he met him half way up.  
  
Sniffing again, Sirius made his way to a closed door at the end of the hallway and burst in.  
  
What he saw made the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end and all the blood that had formerly occupied he face drain to his feet.  
  
"Harry?" The word was more a breath as it escaped his lips, barely audible to even his own ears.  
  
For a moment, Sirius simply stood rooted to the spot, unsure of whether to help Harry or dismember Vernon.  
  
Finally, the paternal instinct he harboured towards his Godson won out and Sirius hurried over to the boy where he lay on the floor. Harry was laying partially on his left side face down, but Sirius didn't want to move him just in case.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
He knelt down beside his Godson and lifted the arm that was over his face. The sleeve of the shirt peeled away reluctantly from the blood on his Godsons face.  
  
"Harry, wake up," Sirius whispered. He touched Harrys face, but it was as cold as ice. "Harry, please be okay."  
  
He touched the wrist of the arm he had just moved and felt the faint beat of a pulse beneath his fingers. He released the breath he hadn't been aware of holding and sat back on his heels.  
  
For a full minute he knelt there, simply looking at the body in front of him as it took in and released shallow breaths. Some part of his mind was telling him he should be doing something, not just sitting there, watching, but it was only a small part of his brain, and it's voice wasn't loud enough to penetrate the fog of shock around Sirius mind.  
  
There was one thing that he knew, though.  
  
He knew, better then he knew his own name, that there was a man downstairs who needed to be killed slowly and painfully. He couldn't really link the knowledge to a reason, even though the reason was lying inches in front of him, but that didn't matter. Slowly, Sirius got to his feet and left his Godsons room.  
  
Downstairs, he found Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursely all sat on the living room on the sofa.  
  
He didn't say a word. The expression on his face didn't even change as he advanced on Vernon. He didn't hear the intakes of breath from the small family before him as he grabbed the man by the throat and heaved him from the sofa and slammed him into the nearest hard surface.  
  
"What the hell did you do to my Godson?" He asked the man who couldn't answer as his windpipe was slowly crushed.  
  
Some dulled part of his logical mind told him the man wouldn't be able to answer him, but that didn't stop him from repeating his question.  
  
"What the hell did you do to him, Dursley?!"  
  
Sirius threw him to the floor, landing on top of him, and let his fists fly.  
  
"Did you really think you could get away with this, Vernon?!" He screamed. "Did you really think I wouldn't kill you for it?!"  
  
From somewhere in the distance of his consiousness, Sirius heard a little voice telling him someone was screaming, but he didn't stop. He pummled Vernons face until it resembled red tapioca and he did not stop there. He felt a slender hand on his arm, trying in vain to pull him away, and again he heard screaming. And this time, he was sure that it wasn't from any of the occupants of the room.  
  
Fist poised to strike again, Sirius stopped.  
  
There it was again. Screaming. Not from any of the Dursleys. Not from anyone...  
  
Sirius got to his feet and went back up to his Godsons room. The screaming continued, louder and louder, coaxing Sirius into a run until finally he burst through the door into Harrys bedroom.  
  
His Godson was exactly where he had left him on the ground. Still injured, still unconscious, still silent. However, the voice in his head was still there, the same voice, now gasping for breath.  
  
i help me, Sirius, i It whispered.  
  
Sirius took a step towards his Godson, but the boy hadn't moved.  
  
"harry?" He whispered.  
  
But the voice in his mind did not speak again.  
  
Sirius suddenly became truly aware of the situation. His Godson was lying not three feet in front of him, his body was broken and bleeding, and he was quite possibly dying.  
  
And Sirius was just standing there.  
  
He was Harrys' Godfather, and he was just standing there, watching him, watching him die, waiting for it to happen.  
  
"Hold on, Harry" he whispered.  
  
Grabbing the invisibility cloak from the chest across the room, Sirius grabbed his Godson, wrapped the cloack around the both of them and landed seconds later on the street outside St. Mungo's. Sirius ran through the barrier with his Godson and threw the cloak off of them both.  
  
"We need help over here!" he shouted.  
  
Instantly, a dozen or more medics were swarming around him, levitating in a stretcher, taking Harry from Sirius, probing and prodding, muttering spells and bringing in potions and instruments of all sorts as they levitated the boy down one of the corridors and away from Sirius.  
  
The man, suddenly exhausted, collapsed into one of the hospital chairs and buried his face in his hands. He wasn't sat for long though. He had been there only a few minutes before a long shadow stretched over him.  
  
"Sirius Black," said a hard gruff voice.  
  
Sirius looked up, and was met with the faces of two uniformed Arours.  
  
Sirius let out an exhausted sigh as he closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
"there's someone want's a word with you, Mr. Black," said one of the gaurds.  
  
Resignedly, Sirius just nodded, as he accepted defeat, and the two Arours swooped down upon him, seizing and arm each, and half dragged him to one of the hospital fireplaces.  
  
#  
  
Well, not that I have sated my need to bash Vernon, I have no more reason to update...So give me one! Come on ppl, REVIEW! It's good for ya karma, don'cha know? 


	3. The Minister of Magic

AN: Big thank you's to Sam, Kaitlin and Ash, who I know tried to review, but his account was fritzin. As the first to review, Sam gets to name my character, however, if she takes much longer she may just be forced to forfeit that right!  
  
#  
  
Sirius hadn't really been focusing on the trip through St. Mungos and into the fireplace as he was flooed to the Ministry of Magic in London. His thoughts remained with his Godson, lying in hospital.  
  
That was, at least, until he was guided into the main office of Minister Fudge and saw someone he had not expected.  
  
"Ahh, Mr. Black." Welcomed Dumbledore. "How good to see you again."  
  
Sirius looked from Dumbledore, who was looking like he was equal parts shocked, although trying to hide it, cautious, happy, and incredibly sad, to a rather uncomfortable looking Minister on the far side of the room.  
  
"Dumbledore." Sirius responded. Then added, "its okay, Mr. Fudge, I won't try and kill you. You can stop looking like I am."  
  
Dumbledore and Fudge exchanged glances before Fudge motioned for Sirius to sit down.  
  
"Sirius, do you know why you are here?" Asked Dumbledore.  
  
"I'm here because two Arours brought me here." Answered Sirius.  
  
Dumbledore paused for a moment as if pondering over the mans answer.  
  
"Let me rephrase the question, Mr. Black" said Fudge. "What is the last thing you remember clearly before the events leading up to you bringing your Godson to St. Mungos hospital?"  
  
Sirius hesitated.  
  
"I'm not so sure." He replied. "I was at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had summoned me, because..." he stopped again. Why i had i Dumbledore summoned them all? "Something to do with Harry. Next thing I know, I'm waking up at the Dursleys house."  
  
Dumbledore and Fudge exchanged looks.  
  
"You have no recollection of coming to the Ministry of Magic between those two events?" Asked Dumbledore.  
  
Sirius shook his head.  
  
Dumbledore looked down at the ground, as if the conversation was weighing very hard upon him.  
  
"It should probably be left up to someone a little closer to you to tell you the details, Mr. Black, but I feel neither Harry nor Remus would be willing or capable to do so. The night that you described when I called upon you and several others was over a month ago. Harry and several of his school friends had come to the Ministry because they believed someone was here and in trouble. This was a trap, set up by Voldemort, and we went after them. There was a large battle. We won, but you, I'm sad to say, lost."  
  
Sirius sat for a moment, the look upon his face one of absolute concentration.  
  
"So what are you trying to tell me, Professor?" asked Sirius slowly.  
  
Dumbledore looked for a moment as if he were going to say something, but then sat back in his chair, apparently unable to say the words.  
  
So Fudge did.  
  
"What Albus is trying to tell you, Mr. Black, is that you died. You fell through the veil that separates this world from the world of the spirits and subsequently died immediately."  
  
For a second, time appeared to have stopped. His mind was wiped blank by this information, and nothing in the world seemed real. Then, as quickly as the feeling had come, it was gone again, and a thousand and one questions were spinning through his head, jumbling his thoughts into a type of crazy kaleidoscope.  
  
"I'm afraid that at this present moment in time, Mr. Black, we haven't much idea more then you do as to how and why you are here among us now." Finished Fudge.  
  
For a moment, Sirius sat there, trying in vain to sort through the chaos of his thoughts. He died? How did that happen? Oh God, how did Harry take it, and Remus? i I'm so sorry, Moony, i he thought. And why was he not being arrested yet?  
  
"Minister," he began, "I was just wondering..."  
  
"Why I'm not arresting you?" Fudge finished. Sirius nodded. "Because, Mr. Black, your Godson has caught Peter Pettigrew. He was questioned immediately under Veritaserum, and administered the dementors kiss the same evening. You are cleared of all charges, and I suppose you'll want some form of compensation for your time in Azkaban."  
  
That did it. That was enough to send the whirlwind of thoughts assaulting his mind into another frenzy.  
  
"I want to go back to the hospital." He stated. "I want to see Harry."  
  
Fudge nodded to the two Arours who had bought Sirius in before. They now walked to either side to walk him back out.  
  
"I'll tell Remus and the others, shall I, Sirius?" said Dumbledore. Sirius nodded numbly from where he stood. "I shall come to the hospital later. It may be a bit of a shock for Harry to wake up and see his death Godfather." He added. "He didn't take your death well, Sirius."  
  
Sirius just nodded, still completely numb, despite the warm tear that tracked down his totally expressionless face. Silently, he turned back to the two Arours and followed them out of the building.  
  
#  
  
I know it's short and crappy, but I figured I had to explain, and I couldn't resist ending the last chapter in a little cliffie for y'all. evil laugh  
  
Responses...  
  
Sam-Nightmist: I have randomness? How'd that happen?  
  
I can see Thestrals: Oh My God, thank you so much! I literally fell off my chair in shock when I read your review! I updated super-fast just for you, and am working on the next chapter as I type!  
  
As always, remember, if you review, I shall forever love you! 


	4. For the best

AN: Here it is, yet another chapter for my devoted readers.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.  
  
#  
  
It was dark outside the building by the time Sirius was allowed in to see Harry. He was told that although the boy had been in a bad way when he was bought in, his three broken ribs had been healed, as had the compound fracture in his leg, and the minor injuries he had sustained. He had been given a vitamin potion and another one for a dreamless sleep, and was healing up well, although he would be sore for a few days yet.  
  
The only part they hadn't told him was that Harry had been given another very strong potion to calm him down and help him sleep once Dumbledore had broken the news of Sirius return, as he hadn't reacted quite as well as everyone had hoped.  
  
That, and the disturbing little revelation he'd had.  
  
There were injuries listed in Harrys medical chart. Small cuts on his arms and legs, some a month old, some barely healed. And there was no way Vernon or Dudley or anyone other than Harry for that matter could have inflicted them.  
  
Sirius was sat by his Godsons bed now, watching him sleep. It hadn't really hit Sirius before...not when he first saw his Godson that night in Little Whining, not when he saw him fly, not when he fought by his side or when they spent that Christmas together last year. Not even when he found Harry earlier that day. But now, watching him sleep, it hit him.  
  
The Boy who Lived was just that.  
  
A boy.  
  
A child.  
  
Now that he was cleared and Harry was away from the Muggles, to all intents and purposes, Harry was his child. His responsibility. The responsibility of a man who couldn't even take care of himself.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sirius decided.  
  
This is for the best, he thought.  
  
"Harry, listen." He began. "Well, I know that's stupid, you can't hear me. But I'd like to think you can hear me anyway, because I think you need to know this.  
  
"I love you. I think that you know that. At least, I hope that you know that, because if you don't, I've messed up really badly already, and I don't want to mess this up, you don't deserve that. You deserve a proper parent, someone who can help you when you need it and I know I can't do that. I have Auror training and experience most people will never have, not to mention a serious case of over-protectiveness, but I know that doesn't amount to shit. You don't need a body-guard, you need a father. Something I can never be. I know that I can't be what you need me to be because right now, you have a lot of problems, and suddenly the big bad ex-convict Auror can't do anything about any of them. And it terrifies me.  
  
"I can't be James, Harry. I can't be a father no matter how much I love you and no matter how much I want to and try to help you. So all I can do, really, is to tell you how sorry I am, and hope that it penetrates the sleep potion so that you know. I'm sorry that I have to do this Harry, but as long as I'm here, you won't be able to turn to anyone else, I know you. So I'm sorry, and I love you, but I think that what I'm doing is the right thing and I hope that in the future someday you can forgive me."  
  
Standing up from his chair beside Harrys bed, Sirius laid the hand he had been holding on the bed beside his Godson, hesitated, and then brushed the errant jet black locks back from his Godsons forehead.  
  
"I love you, Harry. Forgive me."  
  
With that as a final farewell, Sirius turned to the door and marched purposefully out of the room.  
  
And straight into Remus Lupin.  
  
He was looking less then pleased.  
  
"Bugger."  
  
#  
  
So, how was that chapter, ppl?  
  
Anywho, how you liked, time for responses!  
  
HermioneChick08: thanks so much for the encouragement!  
  
Me: I promise I'm going as fast as I can! hides behind HermioneChick and Kaitlin you kill me, you get no more story! 


	5. I can't be a parent

AN: Another short one, sorry, little angsty, Sirius deals with some stuff. Read. Enjoy. REVIEW!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.  
  
#  
  
Sirius Black was once again afraid for his life.  
  
Remus Lupin, best friend for over twenty years, was now standing before him, looking entirely capable of commiting murder.  
  
"You wouldn't be thinking of running away from the problem, would you, Padfoot?" groweled Remus, sounding every bit the wolf Sirius had come to know him as every four weeks.  
  
"Remus..."  
  
"Because I'm sure," Remus continued, "that if Harry were to find out his Godfather had abandoned him again, there'd be no telling what he might think or do."  
  
Sirius looked at the floor as he answered, "Remus, Harry is better off without me here."  
  
Remus did not look convinced. Not for an instant. In fact, he looked rather dangerous.  
  
"I can't take care of him," said Sirius, "I can't help him, and he can't let anyone else be what he wants me to be until I am out of the way." Sirius looked up at his friend as he added, "You could be ten times the parent I could, but he won't see that until I'm gone."  
  
Remus looked at his best friend. The one who had always been so confident that the sun shined out of his ass and there was nothing he couldn't do or have if he wanted it badly enough.  
  
"Sirius, you've been gone for little over a month." Replied Remus. "Look at him."  
  
Sirius shook his head. "Moony," he tried to protest.  
  
"Turn around!" Demanded the werewolf. "turn around and walk back into that room and take a look at those scars on his arms."  
  
Hesitantly, Sirius did as he was told. Although he had known about Harrys method of dealing, he hadn't seen the scars left on his arms where the cuts had been healed.  
  
Between Harrys two arms, there were over forty scars.  
  
"I can assure you, Sirius," said Remus. "there are twice as many on his legs."  
  
Sirius sat back down in the seat he had been occupying a few moments ago. He stared for a minute longer at the boy before speaking again.  
  
"I don't know how to be a parent, Moony" he said.  
  
For the first time since Sirius mother had died, Remus heard a note in his friends voice that he had never wanted to hear again.  
  
Terror.  
  
Misery.  
  
Worst case scenerios and even worse memories. What-if's and what-never- shall-be's all rolled into one voice.  
  
"Neither do I." Stated Remus. "Neither does anyone else on the face of this planet. It's not something you can learn in books, it's a bit of trial and a lot of error, it's a job you have to feel out as you go, only you can do that job better than anyone else on the face of the Earth, better than Dumbledore or me, because Harry wants you to do it. You can't chose what he feels, Sirius. You can't choose on your own what is best for Harry."  
  
Leaning towards his best friend, Remus continued.  
  
"Padfoot, you are my best friend, but sometimes, I hate you so much that I can't even put it into words. You think that you are the only person who loves Harry? Well you're wrong! If Harry wanted me to be his guardian, if he came to me for help, I would do everything that I could for him. I would die for him if he asked it of me. Be he doesn't want my help, Sirius, he wants yours."  
  
"No," Sirius argued, "he wants his fathers help, Remus, and I can't do that, I can't be his father, I can't be James!"  
  
"Then don't try to be James! Sirius, Harry lost both of his parents, but he dealt with it. He lost you and nearly killed himself, his cousin and yours, I might add." Remus said with a smile. "I cannot help Harry because I am not you.  
  
"Harry doesn't want you to replace his father. Harry wants you to be you. No, you can't replace James, but I can't replace you, and that will be what pushes him over the edge. Besides, you know that he won't talk to me about the self-harming, you never did.  
  
Sirius looked up at his friend, guilt shining in his eye as bright as any star.  
  
"I told you I was sorry about that." He said quietly.  
  
Remus shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. It's over."  
  
Remus abandoned his seat now to kneel in front of Sirius on the cold hospital floor, forcing his friend to look him in the face.  
  
"Sirius, I can't help him with the harming, I can't help his grief, I'm worth less then nothing in a fight against Voldemort, and just to complete the list, I'm a danger to him because I'm a werewolf, and may I add, a relatively harder to control one when you aren't around."  
  
The two old friends shared a smile at that as Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius shoulders, pulling him into a one-armed hug.  
  
"Now, tell me again why you think leaving is the best option?"  
  
#  
  
AN: Okay, for some totally deranged reason I simply cannot grasp, a small number of people seem to actually LIKE my story! Therefore, those people will be sad to hear that the next chapter will probably be the last for this story, with an epilogue being possible.  
  
I will try to get them all up tonight, but it's unlikely, as I have sixteen minutes before my dad disconnects me to make me go to bed, so everyone who believes in miracles, clap your hands! 


	6. Admission and Understanding

AN: This one's THE one. Really fluffy (Sirius sings and everything) so those of you who were just after a bash-the-Dursleys fic, abandon all hope here. Warning: this fic deals in depth with self harm from this point onwards. It the issue distresses or disturbs you, hit the back button now and go find something else to read.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.  
  
#  
  
With a little coaxing, and several death threats, from his best friend, Sirius Black had ended up staying at the hospital that night, dozing in the chair beside Harrys bed inti the first whispers of dawn appeared behind the curtains and the sounds of a jaw popping yawn alerted him to the awakening of his Godson.  
  
He watched as Harry slowly came around from the stupor, offering a weak smile as his Godsons eyes came to rest upon him. This was the moment of truth. Remus had assured him earlier that harry now knew that Sirius really was back and that he wasn't losing his mind.  
  
The rest was up to Sirius.  
  
"Hey," He offered.  
  
"Hey," Harry returned.  
  
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sirius tried again.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Not too bad." He replied. "Kinda achey."  
  
"Dumbledore told me what happened." Said Sirius. "About the Ministry in June and everything else." Harrys face didn't change. "Yeah. You wanna talk about it?"  
  
"No," Harry said casually. "I'm okay, thanks."  
  
"Well, no," Sirius retorted. "You're not."  
  
"Sirius, this had nothing to do with you."  
  
"You getting beaten up by that muppet Muggle has everything to do with me," Sirius replied hotly. "But that isn't the point."  
  
"So there is a point?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sirius hesitated. Maybe it was too early to let on that he knew? Maybe Harry would clam. Logically, Sirius knew that the longer he left it, the harder it would be, but that hardly helped.  
  
"Harry," He began, "there's something I want to talk to you about, but odds are, it's not something you're gonna want to talk about."  
  
Now Harry was nervous.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I know exactly what those cuts are on your arms and legs, I know how they were caused, and I want to understand why you did it."  
  
Sirius had had a difficult time from keeping it all from coming out as one massive word, but he thought he'd managed okay. Now, there was nothing left to do but wait for Harrys response.  
  
"Sirius, I..."  
  
Not the response he wanted.  
  
"I'm not mad, or disgusted or even that shocked," he told his Godson. "believe it or not, I understand self-harm, but it is not a healthy option to take and I want to help you stop because if you allow it to continue, it will become much harder to stop. After a few months, it becomes almost impossible to stop."  
  
Harry didn't want to sound like he was prying, but curiosity overcame him, and he simply had to ask. "How do you know that, Sirius?"  
  
This was it. Time to admit the truth, Sirius, he told himself.  
  
"Because I began self harming when I was nine years old, and I continued until I was sixteen."  
  
"What happened then?"  
  
"Remus and your Father found out." Sirius looked down at his hands as he continued. "Do you want to know why I started?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"You've met my mother, I believe. Well, she always hated me that much, I'm afraid, and when she was alive, she did more about it then simply yelling. She was abusive, Harry, and sometimes, I would just be so...I don't really know, it was like some feeling that didn't fit into any category was just there inside me and there was only one way to get rid of it."  
  
"Cutting," Harry stated.  
  
"Cutting." Replied Sirius. "But Harry, that is not the right thing to do. It's not healthy, and it certainly doesn't help in the long run, not when you get hooked on the physical reactions your body has to the injury and you cannot stop until you nearly kill yourself doing it and your two best friends have to tie themselves to you to keep you from doing it again. Harry, you do not want that, believe me. It doesn't make you feel better, in fact, it makes things worse. You stop trusting your best friends and you lose the only method of dealing you ever had."  
  
Harry and Sirius looked at each other, straight in the face, for the first time since the conversation had started. And there was understanding there. Both giving and receiving on both parts.  
  
"You never told Remus and my Father a lot of this, did you?" Harry asked.  
  
Sirius simply shook his head. "Self harm isn't something they understand, Harry." He replied. "It's not something you can understand unless it's something you've been through."  
  
Harry nodded. He knew Sirius was right.  
  
"Look, Harry, I know it's not something that just goes away. I mean, I'm here now, I'm safe, and I plan to stay that way. You can talk to me about anything, and even if I don't understand, I'll listen, I promise. I'll try and help you, if you promise me you'll talk to me before hurting yourself again. Okay?"  
  
Sirius smiled at his Godson, and his heart started doing little flips when the boy smiled back.  
  
"Okay."  
  
And now, Sirius didn't care about Harrys reation. The hard part was over, they were still standing, and as Sirius pulled Harry into a hug, he felt he could easily be the happiest man alive.  
  
"Good." He said realeasing his ward. "Do you think there's any chance you can get some more sleep? You'll heal a lot faster, honest."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."  
  
Sirius just nodded.  
  
"Okay. Please try." He said as he rose to leave his Godson in peace.  
  
"Sirius?" Came a voice behind him.  
  
"Yeah?" he replied.  
  
"Can you...um..."  
  
Sirius turned back to his Godson, his face etched once more with concern. "What's up?"  
  
"Can you stay here?" Harry blurted out. "I mean, you don't have to stay long, just...I think I might sleep a little better, you know..." Here, harry just allowed his voice to trail off as his face turned crimson.  
  
"Some things never change." Muttered his Godfather.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.  
  
"When you were a baby, you used to sleep better with me around," Sirius told him toeing off his shoes and clambering onto the bed beside his Godson.  
  
"Really?" He asked.  
  
"Really." Replied Sirius. "Sometimes you wouldn't sleep at all unless I put ou to bed." He smiled to himself and added "Drove your mother mad."  
  
"Huh, strange."  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
"No," said Harry, "I mean...well, I didn't remember you form when I was a baby, but I remembered your voice."  
  
Sirius looked at him incredulously. Harry made an effort to avoid his eyes. "You remembered my voice?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied. "Sometimes when I couldn't sleep, I'd hear it in my head."  
  
"What did it say?" asked Sirius, curious.  
  
"It didn't speak," replied Harry, blushing again. "It sang."  
  
"You remember that?" Sirius laughed.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Poor you."  
  
"Ha ha." Said Harry sarcastically. "You're singing isn't that bad, you know."  
  
"Oh yeah?" said Sirius still chuckling. "I recon the years have messed with your memory."  
  
Harry chewed on his bottom lip a moment before speaking.  
  
"Refresh my memory them. Sing something."  
  
Sirius shook his head with resolve. "I'm not singing."  
  
"You used to when I was a kid." Harry argued.  
  
"That was different." Sirius retorted.  
  
"How?"  
  
"It just was."  
  
"Please?" Harry begged.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Please?" This time, Harry accompanied the voice with his best Puppy Dog eyes.  
  
"Damn, you are gonna clean out my bank vault with that look when Christmas comes."  
  
"Nah," Harry joked, "I only use my powers for good. Now come one, sing something."  
  
"Fine." Sign Sirius. 2But you don't ever tell Remus, got it?"  
  
"Got it." Said Harry, crossing his fingers under the blanket.  
  
As Harry settled against his Godfather, he heard from above him and deep, smooth voice begin to sing, just the way be remembered it, and he let himself drift back into sleep, and for the first time in a long time, Harry slept peacefully without the aid of drugs or potions while a voice above his head continued singing the familiar tune...  
  
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, You make me happy when skies are grey You'll never know dear how much I love you Please don't take my sunshine away. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, You make me happy..."  
  
#  
  
Okay, that might be it, might not, not sure, review and let me know. Totally outta time now, so I'll do responses 2morrow. Bye! 


	7. Never alone

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue, and there's no point even if you do sue me, because I am currently leeching money off my tight fisted father and have just gone out before sitting down to write this instalment and spent my last £1.12 on a can of Pepsi Max and some TicTacs, and the last 6p went into the NSPCC collection box, so I am now, quite literally, penniless.

Warnings: Same old, same old. Deals with the aftermath of violence and self-harm, bit of angst, bit of a tear-jerker if you're sensitive, but most of it's just a bit of fluff coz I ain't nothing but a Sirius Black loving H/C junkie!

AN: Since I saw how many people liked the story and wanted it to continue, I decided to toy with the thought for a while, before I realized something…I don't know what to do with the plot! sigh. I figure I can do one more chapter as sorta and epilogue (this chapter, actually) and then leave it and start editing my other story.

Another AN: As one of my other friends on here has informed me, my story (Daughter of Death) has a similar plot in some parts to another story on here ('The Chosen' by riaJem, which, btw, is incredible. If you haven't read it, you really should, it's brilliant!) But I can assure you in advance that I got no inspiration for any part of my story from 'the chosen' and the plot goes completely different after a while anyways. Just thought I should let you know.

And another AN: Seeing as how I spent hours talking to Sam, and she hasn't come up with a name for my character, the honour falls to the second reviewer, I can see Thestrals, AKA the wonderful Kaitlin, so, Kaitlin, if you would like to post a name for the character other than your own, please do so in another review and I shall get on with it.

Yet another AN (this is the last one, I promise!): I'm sorry that most of the chapters had that horrible 'rushed' feeling to them (I know that they did!) but then, I did write the whole thing in under three hours, I suppose one miracle a night is enough. Don't worry, I intend to redo and update them a little better when I get the time, which, knowing my schedule, probably won't be for months. So, people, I shall attempt to make it up to you.

And so I give you…

…The one…

…The only…

…The final…

…CHAPTER SEVEN!

Harry was released from St. Mungos the next day, with strict instructions to take it easy, preferably taking a few days bed-rest. It had taken a while, but with the assistance of a few choice phrases he was relatively sure his mother wouldn't have approved of, Harry had convinced Sirius that although he didn't need to be running a marathon or playing Quiddich for England right now, he did not need to stay in a bed for longer then he was asleep at night, and therefore any further discussion was not only pointless, but rather dangerous.

Now, Sirius, Harry and Remus were at the Rooks nest, a three bedroom home in the middle of the woods somewhere in Scotland. It had an invisibility shield around it, so that anyone who walked by would just see a massive mound of earth. The shield would only drop for people who had been present while the spell was cast, therefore, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Remus, Harry, Sirius, Tonks, Snape and Mad-eye had all been present as Dumbledore cast the charm.

The house itself was quite small…A living room, kitchen which doubled as a dining room, bathroom, three bed rooms, and the basement. It has a distinct feeling of warmth, much like the one at the Weasley house, and everything in it was magical. The television showed Quiddich matches and Wizards new, as well as the usual movies and TV shows, all the mirrors and pictures spoke to you, even the wallpaper changed of its own accord every now and then. There was even an enchantment on the door so that it wouldn't open, except for a password ("we solemnly swear we are up to no good" AN: How can you tell it's a Marauders house?).

They had been there now for three days. The only thing that still needed doing was some last touch decorating in the up-stairs bedrooms and everything would be finished, and the Marauders would be free to concern themselves with other issues at hand…such as the reoccurring nightmare of Harrys that was fast giving him cause for concern regarding Dreamless Sleep potion addictions. In the four nights since Sirius and Harry had spoken in the hospital, Harry had spent one with Sirius, two under the affects of the potion, and one awake, as he had refused both. Both Sirius and the potion kept the dream away, but neither solved the problem in the long run, and it wasn't just going to leave on its own.

But that wasn't important at the current moment…Harry and Sirius were attempting to remove the splotches of multi-shaded purple paint from the walls before Remus appeared and saw what they had done to the room.

"What the Hell?!"

Too late.

"uh, Remus…old mate…" Sirius began, scratching the back of his head with his wand and trying desperately to look innocent.

"Don't you even try it, Sirius Orion Black," growled Remus, waving his wand at his friend. He walked into the middle of the room and looked around, seeing the rainbow of purples and plumbs coating his once forest green room.

"Shall I repeat my previous question?" He asked with an exhasperated sigh for good measure.

"Erm…"

"Well…"

Remus raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"We thought you could use a new colour scheme," began Sirius.

"I thought you'd like red…" put in Harry.

"I thought blue," Sirius continued.

"nu-uh," Harry said, turning to his Godfather. "He's a Gryfindor, you show my a Gryfindor that doesn't like red!"

Remus shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, before turning his back on his friends and flicking at the distant wall with his wand, layering it once again with deep cool green.

"I – Like – My – Room – Green," He said, splashing the colour across the walls and ceiling with each word. "Thanks." He finished with the floor.

Harry and Sirius gulped in unision as Remus turned back to them.

"You two make sure it stays that way," he growled. "Else you'll match it."

Harry and Sirius, both suppressing grins, lowered their heads and shuffled out of the room, listening to Remus sigh of "children…"

The few days spent in the Rooks Nest had so far been wonderful for everyone concerened. They had had visitors and well wishers and red-heads galore. Sirius and Harry had practised Quidditch out back and Remus had had fun with the retaliation for the purple room. A prank war had begun between Sirius and the Weasley twins, much to Mrs. Weasleys disgust, and Sirius had managed to convince the door to announce 'Percy is a Prat' if the traitor or the Ministry Moneys ever tried to turn up at the door.

But now, however, was the time Harry hated the most.

Nine minutes past midnight.

Sirius hadn't been un-cool enough to give him a bed time per-say, he was far to brilliant (according to him). However, Madame Pomfrey had no qualms about forcing a sleeping draught down the boys throat if he was still out of bed when she got there at ten past midnight to make sure.

"The child needs bed rest," she had argued.

Harry felt the last thing he needed was a bed.

The problem, however, arose not so much from the fact that Harry hated sleeping, or going to bed, but from the fact that although Sirius was safe, and home, and free, Harry couldn't help but dream that it wasn't so. Every night he would fall asleep, and when he opened his eyes in the dream world, all he would see would be the Death Room in the Ministry of Magic, and no matter how he tried, he was powerless to turn away or block out the sounds and sights as that fateful night unfolded over and over in his mind until he finally awoke in a cold sweat, usually with one or both of the houses other occupants by his side.

So far, he had slept peacefully twice since that night in June. One was when he had taken a dreamless-sleep potion, and the other was the night in the hospital when Sirius had sung him to sleep, and, according to Remus, continued the chorus for several hours until he himself had dozed off.

However, the Dreamless Sleep potion was too addictive to take more than once in a blue moon without risks, and Harry was too loathe to be an inconnvienience by asking Sirius to stay with him again, even though that's what his Godfather insisted on doing anyway during the witching hours of the night after the household was woken.

"Harry," A voice behind his announced the arrival of his Godfather.

"Speak of the Devil," Harry greeted.

"Devil?" asked Sirius innocently. "Me? I'm hurt."

He chuckled as Harry grinned.

"I know," moaned Harry. "Bedtime."

"Not my choice, kid. You know that." Sirius told him as they made their way upstairs. For all his insistence that he would treat Harry as an adult, Sirius was still hell-bent on tucking him in at night. Sirius excuse was that he had a lot of time to catch up for, and Harry didn't argue. He knew how much it tore at Sirius that he had been forced to grow up with the Dursleys instead of with his Godfather, so he didn't press the matter.

"I know," muttered Harry.

"Do you want me to stay?" asked Sirius as they reached Harrys room.

Harry shook his head.

"No," he told him. "You're okay."

Sirius sighed, again. This was what happened every night so far.

"Harry, you know I'll not sleep tonight if you wake up again. I don't know why you won't let me help."

Even as he said the words, he knew what Harrys response would be.

"Because I have to do this on my own, Sirius."

Sirius sighed again, and nodded, before leaving, cursing himself for not fighting harder. But he knew it was no use. His Godson would not accept comfort from any man…even the man who had come to think of him and love him as a son. He knew that Harry felt that the nightmares were something he had to confront alone…

But Harry wasn't alone now.

Neither of them were. Had Sirius not vowed to Harry that neither of them would have to suffer alone again just three days previous?

"Sirius!" Called Madame Pomfrey from the Hallway. "I hope younge Mr. Potter is asleep by now."

"Of course, Poppy." Muttered Sirius slumping onto one of the arm-chairs.

"Sounds like you could use some rest too," she scolded lightly. "He kept you up again last night?"

"Don't do that!" Snapped Sirius. " you make it sound like he does it on purpose, he doesn't."

Poppy snapped up and placed her hands on her hips in a temper.

"Sirius Orion Black, do not take that tone of voice with me or I will slip a magic strength laxative into your next meal!"

Sirius just sighed and sunk back into his chair.

"I'm sorry Poppy," he told her. "I just don't know how to help him. I mean, he's my Godson, and I just…I don't know. What should I do?"

Poppy took the seat opposite him and looked hard for a moment, as though she was in deep thought.

"Well, there you go," she told him at last. "You've just said it. What should you do?"

"What?"

"If I tell you, then you're not doing what _you _would do, you're doing what _I _would do, and that's not what Harry needs right now. Do what feels natural."

Sirius lets out a frustrated moan and snaps "I love him! I wanna help him! I wanna stay with him at nights because that helps him, but he won't let me! He says he wants to do it on his own, but he can't! It's just not working! He's not sleeping, I'm not sleeping, he's not getting better, and I just feel so useless because I'm his Godfather, I'm his guardian, and I spent so long trying to prove that I could do it and now I can't and I hate it, I hate being this useless!"

By the time Sirius had finished, his face was purple and he was all but shouting.

"That's good," Poppy tells him. "But I'm not the one you should be telling."

Sirius looks up at her as she stands, patting a hand on his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Sirius."

Within a second, she was gone, and Sirius was left alone once more with his thoughts.

Allready, Sirius could hear the sounds from upstairs which heralded one of his Godsons dreaded nightmares. Exhaustion must be making him sink into sleep faster, Sirius realized.

Sighing, he picked himself up and jogged to Harrys room.

By the time he got there, Harry was thrashing amongst the tangled mass of sheets on his bed, his mouth hung open in a silent scream, his mouth moving in formless pleas…but with no sound.

That shouldn't be happening.

"Finate Incantatum," Sirius muttered, and immediately the room burst into sound.

Harry cried out once more, his Godfathers name a desperate sound on his lips, before he finally struggled awake. Sirius was beside him instantly.

Harry did not register who the warm mass beside him was, nor why it was there. His subconscious mind simply clung to it whilst his body caight up with itself.

"It's okay, Harry," whispered Sirius, rubbing circles on his Godsons back. "You're okay, I've got you, you're okay."

Words continued to tumble from Sirius mouth in a jumbled litany of comfort until Harry finally pulled himself away with an embarrassed sniff.

"sorry," he muttered, turning away from his Godfather. "I must have woken you again."

"No," Sirius assured him. It's barely half an hour since I left you, I haven't even been to bed yet."

Harry snorted. "That's even better then."

Harry stretched and yawned, his eyes beginning to droop shut once again.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled absently.

Sirius shifted closer towards Harry and tried his argument one more time.

"Harry, please," Sirius begged. "Please let me stay with you. We'll both be better off for it…"

"No, Sirius!" Snapped Harry. "I want to do this on my own, damn it! I'm better than this, I will not be beated by a few bad dreams!"

Sirius sighed. "No, harry, you won't. But you shouldn't have to try and fight them alone. That's what I'm here for."

"I can't keep running to you whenever I need something, Sirius. I need to learn to survive on my own."

"Harry," Sirius whispered, bringing himself nearer to his Godson. "You've been alone for the last fifteen years. You are dreaming these things now because you aren't alone, and you're afraid you will be alone again. Until your mind knows I'm not going anywhere, it'll keep being afraid."

Sirius reached over to his Godson in an attempt to touch his shoulder, to comfort him, but Harry pulled away.

"I'm not afraid, Sirius." He muttered defiantly.

"Really?" Sirius asked. "Because I am. We're at war, Harry. I'm scared of dying, because I know my last thought will be that I'll be leaving you behind. I'm afraid that one of my friends will die, and, God have mercy on me, I am terrified that you will die. I don't want to loose you after all this time, Harry." Sirius reached up once again to Harrys shoulder, and when he didn't flinch away, Sirius moved his hand up to Harrys chin, tilting his face up towards his. "Do you remember what I said in the hospital, about we have to help each other?" harry nodded a little. "I meant it. You wouldn't hesitate to silence my fears, would you?" A small shake before Harry ducked his head again. "You're not alone anymore, Harry. And if I have anything to say about it, you never, ever, will be again. Please, let me stay?"

There was a Hiatus, a moment of dead, a moment where sound, movement, life itself, seemed to stop, suspended and stretched in a frozen moment.

"Okay," Harry finally replied.

Smiling, Sirius wrapped an arm around his Godson and pulled him down onto the bed so that Harry's head was laid against his Godfathers chest. Sirius took Harrys' other hand in his, and pressed his thumb into Harry's palm, causing Harrys fingers to reflexively curl around it.

"Sleep, Harry." Murmered Sirius, before he began to hum a formless tune.

Eventually, harry's breathing evened out and slowed, and eventually, Harry succemed to sleep, one which was filled with warm arms and a rich, soft voice, and a promise which would never be broken again…

"_You're not alone anymore…"_

I know you're in pain

I know that it hurts

Now that I'm not buy your side

But I want you to know

That I still love you so

That without me, you still can survive

And there'll be no more pain

No internal war

And you'll finally know

You're not alone anymore.

For my brother

Never alone


End file.
